


Overcoming Cowardice

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Eventual Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, First Kiss, Near Death Experiences, POV Sherlock Holmes, Poor Molly, Scared Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 14:44:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5590204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d nearly lost her. He’d nearly lost her and he wanted to make sure she knew just how important she truly was to him, just how much she <i>really</i> meant to him. Just how much he never wanted to let her go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overcoming Cowardice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chitarra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chitarra/gifts).



> So this was another one of the Sherlolly prompts that was in my folder that was picked for the Sherlolly Acronyn Fic Title Claim (this time by **Chitarra** this one had two prompts: the first was the actual prompt, which was a quote from Jonathan Safran Foer's  Everything is Illuminated (" _He knew that I love you also means I love you in a way that no one loves you, or has loved you, or will love you, and also, I love you in a way that I love no one else, and never have loved anyone else, and never will love anyone else._ ") and the second was a Sherlolly fic starter I had sent to someone else that they didn't use. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

_She’s alive._

He’d just barely registered Lestrade words of reassurance and warning as he pushed past him and his sergeant to get into the morgue. His eyes were frantically searching for her, because he needed to see for himself that his words were true. He needed to _see_ she was alive, see it with his own eyes. He needed to hold her close, reassure himself that she had not been taken away from him, not before he’d had the chance to tell her the whole truth about how he felt, once and for all.

They’d been tiptoeing around things, taking their time. There had been moments where he had almost told her, almost admitted how deeply he cared, how much he needed her. But he had let those moments slip by and done nothing about them, been cowardly and now…well, now he had nearly been too late.

He didn’t see her among the crime scene technicians inside the morgue, so he went to the office. The lights were off, except the single one by the desk, and most of the office was plunged in darkness. She wasn’t sitting in her chair and it was only when he looked over at the cot in the corner that he saw her. She was sitting there, knees pulled up and feet resting on the cot, arms around her knees. He could hear soft, muffled cries coming from the cot. “Molly,” he said softly.

She looked up at him, her eyes read and puffy, tear tracks running down her face. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as she unclasped her knees and put her feet on the floor. “Sher...Sherlock,” she said, sniffing slightly. “The man…he tried to kill me…he shot Stamford…”

Sherlock nodded. He moved and knelt in front of her, and after hesitating a moment smoothed her hair back. He’d only done that a moment before Molly launched herself at him, getting off the cot and joining him on the floor. He held her tightly, almost as though if he let go she'd slip away and never be close to him again. He nestled his nose in her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo (hibiscus flower and jasmine) and the scent of her perfume (Chanel No. 5) and the faint scent lingering from her time spent in the refrigeration unit. He'd almost lost her and dear God, he never wanted to let that happen again. She was shaking like a leaf and he wanted to hold her close until she stopped. “You’re safe,” he said quietly, shutting his eyes.

“Please don’t leave me alone,” Molly said, burying her face in the crook of her neck, warm wet tears on his skin. 

“I won’t leave you alone,” Sherlock said, going back to smoothing her hair back. “I swear.” He tightened his hold on her slightly. “If you want me to stay at your home, or you want to reside with me at Baker Street, I’m amenable to either idea. I will do whatever it takes to make sure you feel safe.”

He could feel her start to relax after a time, feel her stop shaking, feel her cry less. After a time she pulled away and looked up at Sherlock. “Oh God, you must think I’m pathetic,” she said, brushing away the last of the tears with the back of her hands.

“I think someone tried to kill you and you’re coping with it as best you can,” he said. He reached up and grasped her hands in his gently, surprising her. “If you want me to, I’ll help you cope. I…care for you. I want to help you, as best I can.”

She looked over at him, her eyes widening slightly. “You care for me?”

He nodded, caressing her palms with his thumbs. “I should have told you. I should have told you so long ago, told you how important you are. Not just because of what you’ve done for me, the way you’ve helped me with faking my death and keeping my secret, but because I want to be…better. For you. I want to change, for you. And I’ve never really felt that way for anyone else before.” He was quiet for a moment. “I was helping John with something once, and we were looking up quotes about love, and one stuck with me, and I think it’s how I feel about you and I. It goes ‘He knew that I love you also means I love you in a way that no one loves you, or has loved you, or will love you, and also, I love you in a way that I love no one else, and never have loved anyone else, and never will love anyone else.’”

Molly looked stunned at that, and after a moment she closed her hands to grasp his. “So you love me?” she asked quietly, as though she was unsure of what she had heard.

He nodded. “It took me a long time to figure it out, a long time to admit it to myself, but yes, I do. I should have told you before. I shouldn’t have waited until it was almost too late, and for that, I apologize. But Molly, I—”

She cut him off, leaning forward and gently pressing her lips against his. He shut his eyes, pulling his hands away from hers and caressing her face gently as she moved her hands forward to brace herself. He wanted to savor this moment, savor every last second of it. It wasn’t too late. He had told her the truth, told her he loved her and now it appeared that, perhaps, she felt similarly towards him. When they needed to breathe she rested her forehead against his and moved her hands up to caress his face. “I love you too, Sherlock,” she said. “I have for a long time.”

“I’m glad,” he said. After a moment she leaned forward, slipping her arms around his neck and he pulled her into an embrace again. He would make sure he told her every day how much he loved her, how much he cared, and he would never make the mistake of being a coward again.


End file.
